Teeth
by ckret2
Summary: Itachi's tongue is bleeding. Kisame's more sheepish about this than he'd like to admit. KisaIta. Fluff. Oneshot.


A/N: This was written for a prompt by calciseptine in the community "narutobanged" on LiveJournal. The prompt was "Kisame/Itachi. Teeth." Despite all evidence to the contrary, KisaIta is my secret OTP. Now you know. This piece is pure fluff.

Disclaimer: I own naught but this piece.

_**Teeth**_

"I said I was sorry," Kisame grumbled.

Itachi didn't answer. He was too busy not looking at Kisame. And being stoic. And glowering at the ground. And sitting as far from Kisame as possible without falling off their rotten log. And propping up his chin in his hands. And ignoring the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. And not looking at Kisame.

"It was an _accident_," Kisame went on. "Didn't I warn you I had my teeth resharpened lately?" Actually, he didn't remember if he had, but it's not like Itachi hadn't known. He had the Sharingan, he should notice things like recently-sharpened teeth. "Besides, you stuck your tongue in too far."

Itachi turned to glare at Kisame. Kisame had heard of people who could "communicate with a glance," but Itachi? Somehow, he was capable of packing an entire sentence into those eyes. And right now they were saying _don't you look at me, this is YOUR fault_.

"Oh, come on," Kisame said. "Are the theatrics necessary?" (Not that Itachi was actually being theatrical, he never was.) "It's not like I don't know what my teeth can do, they're in _my_ mouth. I've bitten my tongue before. It isn't _that_ debilitating."

In response, Itachi lifted his head, worked his jaw for a moment, and then spat a glob of blood onto the ground. It stained an alarmingly large patch of dirt, and flattened a few tiny flowers.

Kisame stared. "Oh." That was a lot of blood. Itachi gave him another meaningful look—_"not that debilitating," huh?_—and resumed glaring at the ground. Kisame wondered if Itachi was going to need stitches. He wondered if it was possible to put stitches on the tongue. He hoped they wouldn't have to go ask Kakuzu. This would take a lot of explaining.

"Look, Itachi, I—" He stopped himself. Took a deep breath. Sighed. Stared at the ground, and tried again. "Itachi? I'm sorry. I... got carried away."

He was really awful at apologizing. He didn't have to do it often. Usually, when somebody deserved an apology from him, he'd just kill them instead. He hoped Itachi at least got what he was trying to say.

And the hardest part about this apology: it was Kisame's fault they'd even been in a situation that could have ended with chewing Itachi's tongue half off.

Itachi was not an affectionate guy—verbally, physically or otherwise. Left to his own devices, he wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything that involved actually _touching_ Kisame.

But, he knew what Kisame was like. And he knew what Kisame liked. Which meant this was pretty much all Kisame's fault. Itachi hadn't wanted to do anything in the first place, he'd just been doing it for Kisame. And then, _then_ Kisame went and tried to eat his tongue—

Itachi scooted over and tapped him on the shoulder.

Kisame looked up. "What?"

Itachi pressed a quick kiss to Kisame's lips, then drew back.

Kisame stared at him. And then licked his lips. As sheepish as he was for having caused it, he had to admit that there was something... appealing about the taste of Itachi's blood.

One of the many things Itachi and Kisame had in common: they never openly admitted they could be hurt. Never made a fuss about their injuries. Kisame had an excuse, as quickly as he healed; in contrast, at times Itachi seemed positively fragile, but he got by with a godlike tolerance for pain. No strangers would ever see either of them admit they could be hurt.

And it was only on a rare occasion that they shared their wounds with each other.

Kisame grinned "Am I forgiven?"

Itachi shook his head, but smiled slightly; his eyes said _not yet_. And he resumed his stoic glowering at the ground. Head propped up in his hands. Waiting for the bleeding to stop. His leg pressed against Kisame's.

**End**


End file.
